Halloween: When the Hitman Wooed the Crime-Lord
by Wrecking ZE
Summary: Summary: Seth Rollins is a crime boss, an overlord and has a name in the Underworld… who happens to love Halloween John Cena is a hitman, who works for Seth. What happens when John turns up in plain clothes for the party? Warning: Death, SLASH, role-play, kink, sadomasochism. Read and find out. ;)


**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the characters, only the plot. :)**

 **Summary: Seth Rollins is a crime boss, an overlord and has a name in the Underworld… who happens to love Halloween. John Cena is a hitman, who works for Seth. What happens when John turns up in plain clothes for the party? Read and find out. ;)**

Seth has always been fond of Halloween ever since he was a child. He wasn't the most well off kid growing up and, as such, this resulted in his mother making most of his costumes. They weren't always the best or most inspired costumes, but it guaranteed him at least a month's worth of candy and that was enough to keep him happy. It was really the only time of year where he felt equal with everyone else.

Now that he's older and has more power, he doesn't really feel the need to dress up or beg for candy anymore.

That doesn't necessarily mean he didn't celebrate Halloween anymore, however. He still had his 'close' men dress up in spirit of things. Some he personally picked out and others he gave free range to.

Dean was one of the few he hand-picked a costume for which proved to be more so amusing on his part, if not for Dean himself.

The costume in question was reminiscent of that of a Disney princess or even better yet, a fairy. Complete with a pink tutu, wand, and matching tiara that couldn't quite keep from slipping off of his head throughout the night.

Seth even made sure the tutu was a size too small just so he could see Dean having to constantly pull it up.

He even put on a themed show for the night for only the most prestigious crowd to enjoy and, of course, costumes were mandatory. There were a few patrons who didn't quite follow that rule, but he let a select few slide because he genuinely respected them and their positions in the underworld. However, there was one person in particular who obviously didn't get the memo or actually thought they could disobey a direct order.

Now, Seth would consider himself to be quite fond of John Cena and his exceptional work and the hitman had proved on many occasions that he wasn't hesitant to follow an order. That was the main reason why he kept the man around, not because he was good at what he did, but because he was disciplined and organized.

Which is why he was quite shocked, no, insulted, when John showed up in his normal clothing.

Seth's face immediately radiated heat and he was sure his cheeks were a bright pink, and it wasn't because of alcohol. Seth wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed by John's display of defiance in front of all his men and patrons or if he got off a little by John's ballsy move. Either way he found himself stalking over towards the hired gun.

Everyone knew that anyone who blatantly disobeyed Seth would be dealt with in any way he saw fit and John was no exception. Though, Seth was inclined to give him another chance, seeing as how much he appreciated John's loyalty up until this point.

That and because he had a thing for John if he were being honest with himself.

John was sitting at the bar knocking back a few shots as Seth approached him with a storm cloud above his head the size of LA. Seth swore he saw one corner of John's mouth curl upwards in a half smile as he approached, but he could easily blame it on the dim lighting. He came to a stop just beside the stool John sat at and propped one arm on the counter with an indignant huff to get the man's attention.

"Did you forget something?" Seth inquires with a mocking tone.

John regards him with a quick side glance as if he's disinterested by this conversation already.

"Oh, right," John says, turning back towards the barkeep. "Give my buddy here a free round."

The man behind the counter nods once and sets out to pour Seth a drink of whatever John had been drinking. Seth has half a mind to swat the shot away like a spoiled child, but he plays it cool and knocks back the bitter liquid with a sour expression.

John lets out a short little chuckle at this and slams his own drink back.

"Happy?" John asks sardonically, knowing he's testing Seth's patience.

"I would be if that were the problem and I already didn't get drinks for free here, seeing as how this is _my_ club," Seth snaps, getting bent out of shape over John's petulance. He puts a hand on his hip and glares sourly at the hitman. "Did you not remember what I told you two weeks in advance?"

"What? About the costumes?" John offers nonchalantly as if this was all just a game for him.

"Oh, so you admit that you remember me giving everyone specific orders," Seth goes onto interrogate. John just shrugs and Seth swears he's about to pull a muscle over how bent out of shape he is over John. "And you thought this didn't apply to you, why?"

"I don't do Halloween," John states as if that's final, but knowing Seth, John is sure he won't let it go that easily.

Seth could feel his blood boiling just beneath the surface of his skin and he had to restrain himself from slapping John across the face this very instant in front of everyone. It's like John _knew_ he could get away with sassing Seth around like a little brat. If the knowing smirk on his face didn't give that away, Seth didn't know what would.

"I don't care what you _do_ or _don't do_. I gave you a direct order and expect you to _obey_ that order," Seth reminds him with a firm tone to get his point across.

"You're not wearing a costume," John points out, testing Seth further.

"Who's the boss?" Seth demands.

"Seriously?" John responds in a monotone voice.

The bartender is wiping off the counter, pretending as if he's not eavesdropping on their exchange back and forth. He even goes so far as the clear the countertop of any bottles or shot glasses. But John's resolve hasn't crumbled yet and he swiftly motions for another shot and the bartender hesitantly pours him another. He slides the glass over to John, gauging the tension between the two men squabbling.

" **Who's. The.** ** _Boss_** **?** " Seth repeats more slowly this time.

He knocks John's drink off of the countertop as the hitman reaches for it, making both John and the barkeep flinch a little in surprise. The bartender occupies himself by going to the other end of the bar to serve a couple, not wanting to get caught up in their affairs.

"You are, sir. You're the boss," John mumbles under his breath, hanging his head down like a child who has just been scolded. "As long as you keep paying me, that is."

"Good," Seth grins smugly.

He digs around in his pocket, producing a candid snapshot and sliding it front of John. John snatches it up, smoothing out the creases, and gives it a once over. He furrows the muscles where his brow line would be and looks over towards Seth with an inquisitive gleam in his dark eyes.

"What's this supposed to mean?" John inquires, holding up the snapshot of a rookie from the LAPD.

"That man just so happens to be wearing your costume," Seth informs, grinning from ear to ear. "I want you to take it from him by any means necessary."

"Excuse me?" John chuckles in disbelief. "You want me to murder a cop and wear his uniform?"

"Problem?"

"Look, I'm all for killing cops," John says proud smile, letting it fade slowly as he takes Seth's words into consideration. "But do I really got to dress up like one of those pigs?"

"Don't pout," Seth consoles, patting John's back in a mock display of affection. "Just be glad I'm not making you a fairy princess. You don't want to end up like Dean do you?"

He then gestures over towards the stage where Dean can be seen prancing around the stage in his tutu as people pelt him with candy. John's jaw clenches at the thought of being put through such humiliation but admires Seth's tenacity for keeping Dean in line.

"If you come back wearing the costume I've picked out, I might have a special treat for you," Seth beckons, hoping to spark some interest.

"So you're paying me back in cavities?"

"Well, if letting you have your way with me causes cavities, then yes. I suppose I am," Seth murmurs into John's ear with a sultry voice, catching the usually reserved assassin off guard. "How does that sound for fair?"

"And what makes you think I want that?" John challenges with a murmur of his own as he leans in close to Seth. His dark eyes pierce straight through Seth's icy ones, gauging his resolve.

John has to admit, the idea of having his way with Seth for the evening definitely sounds appealing, especially having him beg for it. He wouldn't hurt Seth in the way he usually does, like he did with Dean, but he would definitely make the brat scream before the night was over. Maybe then Seth would see just how **diverse** his services can really be, and perhaps the waddling little psychopath would respect him a bit more.

"There's no way you'd let me do anything like that anyway," John finally states resolutely, thinking he's being played for a fool.

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Seth replies with a cocky smirk, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. "Besides, what choice do you have?"

 _He has a point_ , John thinks ruefully, clenching his jaw.

Seth slides the photo of the cop back over towards John, tapping it incessantly until John snatches it up and stuffs it in his suit pocket. John ignores Seth's smug face by signaling for another shot, slamming it down before being on his merry way.

"Don't make me wait too long," Seth calls over to John's retreating form.

###############################################################

About an hour later when all the festivities came to an end and the patrons have cleared out of the club, Seth sent his men home for the night, expecting company shortly. Seth waddles to his office in the back, getting a little irritated that John hasn't shown up yet.

Maybe he decided to bail instead of being bullied by the likes of Seth.

Seth was aware that John knew he would never hurt or punish him harshly because he was infatuated with John, which is why Seth would probably let someone like John walk all over him. That was the whole point of this in the first place. Perhaps he overwhelmed John.

Seth knows he's probably jumping the gun and assuming things after all it's only been an hour and all he gave John to go on was a photo, no address or known hangouts. Halloween was almost over and Seth knew he was just getting his hopes up, but he still had to give it a try right?

When he finally makes it back to his office and swings the door open he's greeted to the sight of John leaning against his desk, decked out in an official LAPD uniform that still had blood on it from where the hitman had shot the officer in the gut. The whole get up was complete with a baton, cuffs, and even a hat, which John pulled off tremendously by the way.

Seth was so taken aback by his appearance that he didn't know what to say at first. He was too gobsmacked by John actually showing up and wearing a genuine police uniform.

The sight of John with a perpetual scowl on his face and his hands gripping the lapels of the standard LAPD jacket got his pulse thrumming with adrenaline.

"O-Officer, w-what are you doing here?" Seth stammers out, putting on his best innocent face he could muster.

"We've had a few noise complaints in this area. A lot of complaints against this fine…" John gestures around the office with the baton in his hand. "... _establishment_ of yours, as it were."

"Well, of course officer. It's a night club," Seth points out as if John is a five year old. No doubt coming off as snotty. "That's bound to happen."

"Are you trying to get smart with me, Mr. Rollins," John asks, taking a step forward to crowd Seth. He pokes Seth in the chest with his nightstick to pin him against the wall.

"No, sir, that's not what I intended at all," Seth gushes, portraying the embodiment of innocence itself.

"Because I don't appreciate it when little punks like you give me sass," John goes onto say, towering over Seth as he digs the blunt end of the baton further into the shorter man's chest. "I might just have to put you in handcuffs if it happens again. You wouldn't want that now, would you?"

"Oh, of course not sir," Seth says way too sarcastically, because that's _exactly_ what he wanted.

Still, John keeps up with the charade, backing away from Seth so he can start grilling him for answers and the like.

"Good," John says, nudging Seth with his nightstick once more.

John strolls around the room, taking in the decor as he swings the baton around proactively. Seth stands there, back still against the wall and stiff as a board, taking in the sight of John's brooding form. Seth has to admit that he's always had a thing for men in uniforms.

That's why he picked it out especially for John, but he didn't know when exactly this kink started.

If he had to guess it would have to be around the time he first met Hunter Helmsley. The man could definitely pull off a uniform and maybe he'd prefer it if the detective were here instead, but John would have to do for now. Besides, John wouldn't be afraid to get a little rough with him.

"What exactly goes on at this establishment, Mr. Rollins? If you don't mind me asking," John inquires as if he's in deep thought.

"Well, I host shows for a very prestigious and selective crowd. We have quite a few acts ranging from up and coming solo artists to some pretty wild bands. You're welcome here any time if that's your thing," Seth offers with a nervous chuckle, watching John.

"I used to come here when Roman Reigns was still running this joint. It was pretty wild then," John states, sighing as he turned back to Seth. "When did you come into ownership of this establishment?"

"About five months back, give or take couple," Seth responds meekly when John's dark eyes come to rest on him. "Why?"

"You're running this place legally, right?"

"Um, l-legally, sir?" Seth echoes with a stutter, revealing the truth to John right then and there.

"Yeah. Like a permit or a license in your name stating that you own this property and its… assets," John recites, committing fully to his role as an officer of the law even if he despises it.

"Being a man in my position, I don't have to trouble myself with trivial matters such as paperwork," Seth offers, hoping that John will get the hint that he's a powerful man.

"So, illegally then?" John concurs.

"Well, if you want to be technical."

Seth chuckles, trying for a light-hearted sense of humor and failing when John's stoic expression doesn't budge.

He slowly approaches the hitman dressed as a police officer, ducking his head meekly when he comes close enough to portray a certain level of submission.

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement," Seth adds, palming a couple hundred dollars inside John's free hand. "I'll make sure you're rewarded handsomely for your silence. If you catch my drift."

John pulls his hand away to look at the filthy crumpled up bills in his hand, scoffing at them in disgust as if he's insulted by the insinuation. He tosses them back at Seth's face, making him flinch. His once reserved gaze is replaced by one of contempt as he advances on the shorter man.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to bribe an officer of the law," John declares with a firm tone, nudging Seth with his nightstick once again. "That in itself is a very serious offense."

"You're absolutely right officer," Seth confesses, grasping the front of John's blood stained uniform shirt. "I've been a _very_ bad boy, sir. You should arrest me."

" _How_ bad?" John urges on, gripping his baton in both of his hands tightly.

"Well, let's just say that I don't always pay off people with money," Seth tells him with a bedroom voice, reaching out to lay the flat of his palm over John's chest. "I'm a naughty boy and I should be stopped at once."

Seth drops down to his knees and grabs at the front of John's slacks, staring up at the man before him pleadingly. He purposely gropes at John's crotch in lingering strokes, coaxing life into the already half hard member.

"I think I might be one of those sex fiends, sir. I should be locked up before it gets really outta hand."

"I think I know what you need," John affirms, propping the end of his baton just underneath Seth's chin to raise his head up further.

He trails the blunt tip of the baton slowly across Seth's lips, making them part on reflex which, in turn, prompts John to smirk triumphantly.

"Suck it," John orders firmly. "Make sure you get it nice and wet."

Seth shudders bodily, licking his dry lips nervously, and opens up his mouth, letting John slide the hard, cold cylinder of plastic into his waiting mouth. Seth wraps his lips around the nightstick and begins to suck on it obediently, pretending as if it were an actual cock. And he spares no expense when it came to moaning wantonly or grasping the base of the baton for support. John can feel himself throb at the display before him.

"You're hungry for it aren't you, you dirty little slut," John marvels, thrusting the stick into Seth's mouth in tandem with his bobbing. "If only they could see what a filthy whore their _King of Los Angeles_ is. Down on his knees and sucking like a champ. Definitely isn't your first time, is it?"

Seth moans something that sound like _uh-uh_ and shakes his head bashfully, lashes fluttering every so often. Seth grabs the base of the baton and starts to stroke it, working it over like it was John's cock and fuck, does he wish it was.

Maybe next time.

Seth _hopes_ there is a next time.

"Good boy," John congratulates, pulling the baton free from Seth's mouth with a pop, causing the shorter man to whine. He places the nightstick on the desk behind him. "Don't worry. I have something better for you."

John grabs Seth roughly by his arm and hoists him up before slamming him into the desk so that he's laid out across the width of it. Seth has his hands splayed out over the desktop, gripping at the smooth surface futilely when John snatches up both of his wrists. He can hear a jingling of metal coming from behind him of which he can only assume are the handcuffs.

And as sure as he thinks this, not a moment later are they being _tightly_ secured around his wrists. John handcuffs Seth's hands behind his back and he watches as the shorter man pointlessly struggles to get out of them. Well, not so much to get out of them as to test their resistance. This little display of powerlessness pleases John.

John reaches around to the front of Seth's pants and undoes them with swift fingers before shucking them down his thighs to expose his bare backside. The naughty little shit wasn't wearing any underwear. John can't help but grin at this as he picks the saliva slicked baton back up and poises it at Seth's entrance. Seth is swaying his ass back and forth, making it difficult for John to line up it properly.

John promptly smacks Seth's ass to get him under control.

"Quit squirming you filthy skank," John barks out, raising his voice and slapping Seth on the ass once more to get his point across. "I'll give you what you need soon enough. Unless, of course, you wanna take my cock dry. I bet you'd get off on that, huh?"

Seth can only whine as he complies and cries out immediately as he's breached by the cold instrument. The spit coating the hard plastic is hardly enough to make him comfortable, but that's not what this is about. Seth wants it rough and raw. He's not a delicate flower, besides soft and sweet wasn't really in John's job description anyway.

"Oh, fuck!" Seth exclaims in a drawn out groan.

The baton is being jaggedly thrust into him almost painfully so, but he grits his teeth and takes it like the good little bitch he is. Seth's been fucked before and he's used toys, but being violated by a nightstick was something else altogether. It was way too hard and had no resistance or bend to it, but that somehow turned Seth on even more. Suffering and pain was all he was used to and it was refreshing to be reminded just how alive he was every once in a while.

"Mmm, look at your body just swallowing that nightstick eagerly as if it were a cock," John praises, twisting and thrusting the baton at a regular pace. "You're taking it like a good little whore. I bet you want more, huh? You want the real thing in that tight hole of yours, stretching you open until you're loose and worthless."

"Yes, officer! I'm a naughty little bitch and I need correcting," Seth pleads, pulling against the cuffs around his wrists until they dig painfully into his sensitive flesh. "Please, sir! Please fuck me! I need to be punished."

John deems this satisfactory enough and slides the nightstick out of Seth's ass with a rough yank, causing the crime lord to gasp out harshly. Seth bangs his forehead against the surface of the desk in frustration, whining because it hurts and moaning because it's just not enough. Seth becomes restless once again and starts to squirm around proactively, earning him another swift swat to his ass. He immediately stops, knowing John must be brimming over with smugness. John nudges Seth's legs apart further and positions himself behind him.

John undoes his fly with deft fingers, swiftly pulling his cock out without even bothering to rid himself of his pants. Without further delay, or a proper moment of reprieve for Seth, John spits into his hand and grips the base of his hard cock to shove it shallowly into Seth's body. Seth tenses automatically, trying to push John out of his body. He has to fight his natural instincts to stop John's cock and instead relax his body to welcome John's intrusion.

"Come on. Be a good little bitch and open up that ass of yours," John demands, slapping Seth some more to coax him.

The crime lord tries to block the blows against his tender flesh with his cuffed hands only to get them swatted away soon after.

"Keep your fucking hands out of the way and take my cock like the dirty cunt you are," John practically growls, letting out his more primal side.

He usually doesn't get this carried away during sex or any other time really, but there was something about Seth that beckons out the worst in John. Maybe it was all the pent up rage from being bossed around by the likes of someone like Seth or perhaps it was the freedom of judgment that let John be who he truly was. It was the first he was ever comfortable enough to be this reckless and the fact that it was Seth only made it that much better.

He considered this payback for all the times Seth mocked or belittled him and Seth was loving every second of it. His cock gave an incessant throb deep inside Seth's tight orifice and he knew it was now or never. If he didn't fuck Seth soon he was bound to come like this alone.

John grabs the small chain linking Seth's wrists together and pins them to the small of his sweaty back while John's other hand goes to tangle in the small tuft of hair on top of Seth's head. Seth braces himself for what's about to transpire by planting his feet firmly to the ground and taking deep, shallow breaths as John slowly pulls out before slamming back in ruthlessly.

The air is punched out of him and Seth barely has enough time to recuperate before John repeats this slowly a few more times. Once John deems his body is use to his cock enough, he starts pounding away at Seth as if he's a regular fuck machine. He yanks on Seth's hair hard enough to pull his head back painfully so, drawing out even more of those wonderfully tortured sounds that are music to John's ears.

"How does that feel? Have you learned your lesson yet?" John inquires with a ragged and rough tone, snapping his hips more firmly each time. "Or would you rather be gang banged by the whole LAPD? I bet Hunter Helmsley would have a thing or two he'd like to get off his chest. I bet you'd enjoy that."

Seth gives an involuntary moan of approval at this and John gives him a firm little smack to make him shudder. John's getting close, surely as close as Seth must be by now, but he doesn't want to end on a note like this so he thrusts more jaggedly, making Seth's own erection to nudge against the edge of the desk, and pulls on Seth's hair until it feels like the follicles are going to rip out.

"I know you have a thing for him. And I know you'd probably rather it be him than me fucking you right now," John acknowledges, thrusting even harder at the thought because it makes his blood boil. "But _I'm_ the one who's fucking you. Not Hunter. And if you want to come, you have to tell me one thing…"

"Yes officer! Anything! Please just let me come," Seth begs pathetically like a bitch in heat as his body shifts violently back and forth with each brutal thrust.

"Who's the boss?" John murmurs into Seth's ear menacingly.

"You are! You're the boss, John!" Seth proclaims, gasping when John intentionally nudges the head of his cock against his prostate. "Please fuck me until I come! I need you John! All of you! Please come inside me!"

"Now there's a good little whore. I barely had to break you in," John chuckles darkly as he lets loose and starts to really give it to Seth. "You be a good bitch now and come for me."

He pounds away voraciously at Seth's backside as if it's nothing more than a warm hole and loses himself quickly in the sensations building up all along his cock as Seth clenches around him tighter. He drills into Seth further as the shorter man beneath him is screaming out his orgasm with John's name on his lips, tightening his body around John's cock like a vice until the hitman is coming as well.

A shockwave resounds throughout their joined bodies, wracking them with orgasmic tremors. It's the hardest either of them has ever come and they knew nothing would be able to top it after this. All they had now were the tiny aftershocks and the harsh echoing of their hot panting filling the room. John is crushing Seth with his body but the shorter man is too strung out from his orgasm too care.

"Fuck…" is all John can say in response to what just happened and it oddly seems fitting.

"Right?" Seth pants back, wincing as John pulls out, letting his release escape with him.

"Why can't it be Halloween all year long?" John inquires on a steadying breath.

"It doesn't have to be for us to do this," Seth suggests from his position on the desk.

"Really?" John asks with disbelief despite what just happened.

"Really," Seth deadpans. "Now get off of me and undo these damn handcuffs before I change my mind."

"You're the boss, sir," John replies with a smirk.

"Damn right I am."

 **Please Review! Easily the longest thing I have written in one sitting! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**


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